Jenny and I were in an eighteen wheeler with Trucker Dan. Dan was not a fan.  Oh, he liked Jenny alright, with her tight jeans and half-buttoned shirt. Her charm -- you know, “oh shucks aren’t you just a sweetheart for giving us a ride”.  

But Trucker Dan was not a fan of me.  Not so much. 

I know why, right?  I can see it from Dan’s perspective.  He stopped to pick up a young woman in distress. Then, I appeared, out from hiding, wearing handcuffs and looking like I’d been in a fight with a lawn-mower.  

I couldn’t do much about the cuts and bruises on my face, but Jenny got me out of the cuffs. 

She asked Dan for a ball point pen. Dan handed her one from his left breast pocket.  She took it apart, flattened the ink tube, then shoved it down the locking mechanism on the cuffs, creating a shim.  Then, she pulled on the cuffs and they reversed right open. It was so easy. I was floored.

For about ten seconds.  Then, while I was rubbing my wrists, Dan noticed the red and blue flashing lights behind us.

It was the fuzz. Smokey.  Oh, Fantastic. Trucker Dan was being pulled over.

This here is Kill/Switch recording number nine. It’s known as “One Million”.  And, I don’t reckon I know why I’m talking like this. I guess it’s the music.  Or, maybe it’s because this is what Trucker Dan sounds like.

Anyway, after Dan sees the cop, he says, “Well, what in tarnation, I ain’t been pulled over in three years.”  See what I’m saying about how he sounds? 

Jenny looked at me and then started to speak but Dan cut her off. He said, “Get in the bed in my sleeper, draw the curtain, cover yourself with my pillows and blankets.  I’ll get rid of this cop.”

We hadn’t told Dan anything about our predicament, so I didn’t know why he was making us hide.  But Jenny smiled and kissed Dan on the cheek. Dan grinned sheepishly.  He said, “Don’t worry, I got this.”

We did as Dan said, a few minutes later, we were covered in smelly blankets and pillows, Jenny laying side by side with me.  We held hands. 

I’m not gonna lie, it was tense. It felt like one of those movies where they’re smuggling someone across the border or something.

The cop asked Dan to step down from the cab.  We couldn’t hear their conversation well, but we could peek out the darkened sleeper window.  The cop was young, barely more than a kid.  We could hear bits and pieces of their conversation. They laughed a couple of times.  Kid Cop was saying the usual stuff, like “have you seen these two?” “They stole something dangerous.” “Call me if you have anything to report.” “It’s a matter of national security.”

It took twenty tense minutes, but then we were on the road again. Jenny was showering Dan with praise, treating him as a hero.  Dan was loving it. 

I was about to be sick. Because, five miles later....

We entered the Million Dollar Highway, part of Dan’s shortcut to Salt Lake City, where he was hauling some sort of urgent cargo, which he would not divulge.  Ever been on the Million Dollar Highway, aka, The Most Fucked Up Road in America? Oh, you’d remember if you had.  I couldn’t even look at the road, if you can even call it a road.  It was like a parable for how my life was going. Sheer cliff on the right, going straight up. Sheer cliff on the left, going straight down. Windy, with blind curves and rock slides. And not a guardrail in sight.

Jenny was like, “Oh, this is so awesome!”  The woman is nuts, I’m telling you.  I mean, one side of the painted white line was the road, the other side of the line, where you usually have the shoulder, was a 1000 foot drop. 

I wouldn’t want to walk down this road.

We were in a big rig. 
 
How had all this happened? Late last week, it had begun so well... for the first hour. I’d stolen the data I wanted and gotten away, but I got sidetracked after leaping from a perfectly good moving car, losing my backpack in the back of a Uhaul, diverting to Birmingham where I recovered my backpack and first met Jenny. Days ago, Jenny appeared out of nowhere behind me in line for a burrito, across from my motel. Then she was on the bus I was on, saying that she was going to visit a boyfriend she now suddenly no longer cared about. She was techy enough to jailbreak her own phone to run a specialized app.  Oh, and she knew how to break out of handcuffs.

Jenny was now emphasizing Allen every time she spoke to me. Allen, look at that view, Allen, isn’t Dan a sweetheart, Allen...  Eh. Look, I told her my name was “Allen” but she had called me by my real name, “Sean.”  She wasn’t supposed to know my real name. So... How did she?

I looked toward the front of the cab where Jenny sat with Dan.  She was enamoured with the view. And... so was Dan.  Several times, Jenny leaned across Dan, trying to get a look at the mountains on the driver’s side, or a rock slide, or a car full of people that died when they had gone over the edge.  She kept doing it, leaning across him... look at the waterfall, or ‘oh, wow, I just saw a car wrecked on the valley floor’.  

Dan kept sneaking peeks. Not at the mountain peaks, but down Jenny’s sagging shirt.  

It was going to get us killed. Dan would be looking down her shirt and driving off a cliff.

That’s what I thought, but, Trucker Dan just kept trucking along, apparently plenty experienced in the art of driving while peeping.  While Dan was peeping, I was sleeping.

I woke up about the time we stopped at a Blue Jay’s truck stop in Grand Junction, Colorado. Jenny and Dan were speaking in hushed whispers, probably so they wouldn’t wake me. 

The law said Dan could drive eleven of every fourteen hours.  He was sitting at ten, while pushing to get to Salt Lake before noon tomorrow.  He said he had to take a mandatory break.  

Jenny said, “Hey, the sign says they have showers.”

Dan said, “Yup members only. But if you want one, you can take my Blue Jay’s member card to get in.”

Jenny said, “Do you mind?”

Dan said, “Not tall.”

He handed her his member card and told her where to go to get a clean towel.  She went to get her bag from the truck, then came back and kissed him on the cheek again, smiled at me, then walked away.

Jenny was just out of ear-shot when Dan turned to me and said, “I know who you are.”

I said, “What do you mean?”

“You two are the ones who stole that CIA computer weapon.”

I chuckled and said, “Sorry, man you got the wrong guy.”

Dan reached into his pocket... and pulled out his phone and showed me a picture of me. He flicked the screen, showing a picture of Jenny.  He flicked it again, and there was a picture of Jenny and I together on the bus. A passenger must have taken it.

“Highway patrol back there showed me these. These pictures are all over the news.  Cop who stopped me also said a patrolman in New Mexico’s been shot. About twenty miles from where I picked you up.”

I said, “That wasn’t us. It was some other -- ”

“Some other guy. I know.  News is saying that the New Mexico patrolman killed the guy that shot him. They fingerprinted the dead guy. Swedish national. Wearing the uniform of a dead patrolman who was found in Texas.  Swedish guy is some sort of notorious hacker. He was after that CIA computer weapon. News said it could be worth billions.  News is saying every country on earth wants that weapon.

“News says you have it.”

I thought about what I’d read on the Dark World Forums.  Rumors that spies and hackers were all flying to the US to hunt for the Cyber Weapon. It was a game-changer.  Whoever controlled the weapon - nicknamed Styx - would have more power than almost any other single person on earth.   I looked at Dan and realized he had extended his hand, palm up, in front of me. 

He said, “Go ahead and hand it over.”

I said, “No, I don’t have it. I told you.”

Dan reached into his pocket... and pulled out a gun. It was a cute little Beretta A21 Bobcat. He pointed at my forehead. He repeated, “Go ahead and hand it over.”

I glanced around. Dan said, “No one can see you. And, no one would care if they could. No one gives a shit about a turd like you... in the whole wide world, I bet there are five billion people who your average other person would care about ahead of you...”

Dan rambled on about what a piece of shit I was for a bit, and I started thinking... what the fuck kind of can of worms had I opened? I mean, I was supposed to get hired on as security at Gateway Underground Secure Storage, then during a planned outage and upgrade, I was to steal the SD card that I stole, and steal a few extra cards to confuse the cops. I was to drive to Charlotte, fly to Seattle, hand the card to BossMan95, and be done with this stuff.  Days ago. We’d cure Teresa, open-source the drug and a vaccine, and go back to our normal lives.

Instead I felt like a bruised orange. I’d been chased down, locked up, handcuffed, freed, brought down to zero, pulled out, and put back there.  Had sex with the girl with the black hair. 

My point is, it was supposed to go down smoothly.  At no point was I supposed to have a gun pointed at my forehead.

But here I was.

I said, “Okay, Dan, take it. Take my bag. It’s still in your truck. All the SD cards are in it.” I didn’t tell Dan that the card he was after was actually in a computer in Birmingham, Alabama. At a woman named DeKeisha’s house.  Even DeKeisha probably didn’t know she had the card.  I said, “Just take the bag, go to the police, get your stuipid reward.”

Dan said, “Police? No way, man. I’m selling this motherfucker. Top bid. Iran, China. North Korea. Don’t make no difference. I’m gonna be rich. Never have to drive another mile.”

I said, “Jesus, Dan.  North Korea?”

Dan spit on the ground and said, “Don’t make no difference.  America’ll be fine.”

I said, “Dan, one thing, please, my sister is sick.  One of the SD cards has a cure. I need to keep --”

He interrupted me and said, “Well, now, a cure sounds like yet another thing people would pay big money for.”

I begged, “Come on Dan, please.”

Dan said, “Shut up. Start walking. That way.” He waved the gun toward a field, away from the truck stop.

I said, “My sister means everything to me.”

He jabbed the gun and said, “Walk, motherfucker.”

I said, “Alright, alright. Just let me go get Jenny.”

“Jenny and I are getting along just fine. She’ll be coming with me. You, walk that way. Or I will shoot you.”

I said, “If you shoot me, you’ll never be able to sell that card.”

“I’ll say it was self defense.”

“Oh yeah, you’ll be famous.”

“Yeah... Nice little fringe benefit.”

“Except, about the time they’re zipping up my body bag, they’ll be snooping around you and your truck looking for those SD cards. They’ll be watching you like a hawk if they don’t find them.  You’ll never have a sliver of a chance to sell them.”

Trucker Dan thought for a moment.  A long enough moment that I could tell the gun was getting heavy in his hand.  Should I try to grab it?

He said, “Okay, here’s my offer. I let you take the card you want, and you leave.  Jenny can stay with me.”

Well, damn. I did not expect to have to make that choice. 

The angel on my left shoulder said, “You can’t do that to Jenny.” 

The devil on my right shoulder said, “Hey, this is about Teresa. We can’t save the entire world.”  

Angel said,  “Who knows what Fucker Dan will do to her?” 

The devil said, “Hey, are you allowed to use cuss words?” 

“They make exceptions in emergencies.”  

The devil said, “Huh, I didn’t know that.  Anyway, Jenny’s a grown woman having an adventure. She’ll be fine.” 

Good and evil argued on my shoulder for a few minutes and I was like, argh! It takes me forty-five minutes to pick a movie to watch on Netflix, how was I possibly going to decide this?

I needed to warn Jenny.  

I needed to save Teresa.

Dan said again, “What’s it going to be boy, yes or no?  What’s it going to be boy, yes... or...”

Dan held the gun on me as I got into his truck and retrieved my backpack.  I pocketed the COVID data SD card and handed the rest to Dan. I hoped he wouldn’t count them.  I shouldered my backpack, and then Dan said, “Not so fast.  You get that one SD card. The rest of your stuff is mine.”

I handed him my backpack.  Dan said, “Now walk.”  

I walked.